


Pretty woman

by Manatees_for_Mystrade



Series: Silver Tiger [2]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
Genre: Crack, Dom Greg Lestrade, Failed Sex, Jealous Sherlock, Light Dom/sub, M/M, Misunderstandings, Netflix and Chill, Oral Sex, Punishment, Restraints, Sub Mycroft
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-31
Updated: 2017-08-31
Packaged: 2018-12-22 06:46:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,263
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11961915
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Manatees_for_Mystrade/pseuds/Manatees_for_Mystrade
Summary: Mycroft wants to spice up their love life. Things don't go as planned…





	1. Not in this suit.

**Author's Note:**

> Hi :) 
> 
> My first attempt at smut. It turned out, that I can’t write anything hot – just funny or awkward. So if you came for porn, please stay for crack.
> 
> I finally found a Beta reader (or he found me? :D ).  
> Thanks to amazing BrynTWedge this story has style and not so many mistakes (unlike my previous work – which is a disaster). He was efficient, quick and absolutely wonderful. Just thanks to him you can read this story immediately (I would slowly think about my errors and post it separately).
> 
> All kudos to him! :D

Mycroft had everything ready. Candles. Dinner (this time his private cook prepared it and left before Greg came). It was a perfect evening for something, which his online dating guru Jolanda called 'Netflix and Chill'. Today Mycroft was extra nervous since this was their first opportunity to talk about ‘ _special practices’_ in the bedroom. Greg came later than he intended, but Mycroft literally didn't care. He welcomed Greg with a kiss on his cheek and poured wine to him.

"Oh, My, I didn't know you were such a romantic." Said Greg when he looked around.

"For you, my Love, everything." Whispered Mycroft into Greg's ear.

They slowly moved to the dining room. Mycroft pulled out a chair for Greg so he could sit down first, and Greg started giggling.

"My, I am not a maiden from the 18th century."

"Indeed. You are my handsome lad." Mycroft winked before he went for starters.

"Hmmm... what a nice smell."

"It's called consommé."

"Mmm, I can't wait to ‘consume’ it."

"Funny, my dear. For your information, consommé is a type of clear soup made from richly flavoured stock or bouillon that has been clarified, a process which uses egg whites to remove fat and sediment." Explained Mycroft, even though he didn't find it funny at all.

"Interesting. What’s the main course?" Said Greg without any real interest in Mycroft's information about consommé.

"You." Greg nearly spat out the wine. Usually, Mycroft wasn't provocative. To be honest, it was sometimes hard for Greg to even notice that Mycroft was flirting.

"And?" Purred Greg, already aroused.

"Roast duck legs with redcurrant jus, seasonal greens, and olive oil jacket potato." Answered Mycroft, who didn't understand Greg's innuendo. Greg almost facepalmed.

"Isn't a little hot today?" Said Mycroft and seductively opened one of his buttons. But it was too late. Hunger efficiently killed Greg's erection.

"Is something wrong with you today? Do you feel ill?" Greg asked with care. Mycroft felt insecure. He followed every advice of Jolanda's Spicy&Sexy article and Gregory wasn't impressed nor turned on. Instead, he thought that he was sick. The politician couldn't understand what had he done wrong. Maybe, he wasn't just attractive for inspector anymore.

"Do you still find me appealing?" Mycroft murmured his inner question.

"What?! No, I think you are very sexy, but you are acting weird." Greg grasped Mycroft’s hand.

"Well... I invited you to discuss a certain matter of intimate nature. My behaviour seemed to be appropriate for my further proposition."

"In other words, the only reason for your invitation was, that you want to fuck me?"

Mycroft blushed.

"It wasn't my only motive. I... enjoy your company."

"My Pudding, do you know what I would enjoy right now?" Mycroft's hope rose dramatically.

"What?"

"The duck. It sounds pretty delicious and I am quite hungry."

"Ah." Mycroft didn't even try to hide his disappointment. Greg grinned, quickly pulling him into an embrace and kissing his neck. Mycroft moaned.

"Don't worry. We have all night. But it would be a shame to throw out that yummy food, and we’ll have time to talk about some new ideas." This time Mycroft didn't miss his innuendo.

"Very well. I don't like anything hardcore or truly painful, although I have to say I find light BDSM and power dynamics highly arousing."

"Oh really? And what attracts you more? Being sub or…?" Mycroft went as red as a beetroot. Greg just smirked. He had his answer.

"So...? After dinner?" Asked Mycroft with anticipation.

"Yes, if I have a room after the dessert." Greg said invitingly. Sadly, Mycroft again didn't catch it.

"I am not sure. My cook made the grand dinner. This isn't even the last starter." Mycroft sighed and Greg started laughing.

After a five course dinner, both were completely full. Despite the fact that Mycroft couldn't even move, he refused to give up.

"Gregory... Waldorf pudding was our last course."

"Urgh, Myc, I appreciate your effort, but I feel bloated." Said Greg sincerely. They stared at each other for a moment. Suddenly Mycroft's eyes shined. How could he forget on Jolanda's tips?

"I have a great idea!"

"Oh God, please not again." Whispered Greg, but Mycroft heard him.

"No, you would like this one. We can watch Pretty Woman."

"That’s actually a good idea." Greg agreed. They wanted to watch the movie before, but the both of them fell asleep. Mycroft turned on the telly and found Pretty Woman in movie selection, while Greg cuddled up with him. 12 minutes later Mycroft's phone rang… it was ‘Hips don’t lie’. If Mycroft knew anything about modern music, he would be very angry (probably furious would be the better word) at Sherlock, who clearly messed with his phone. Now, he was only sligthy emberassed. Greg Lestrade, proud father of an adolescent daughter, recognized the song immediately, so he began to laugh.

"I am sorry, it's the PM." Apologized Mycroft, when he looked at the screen.

Greg stopped laughing (although he still grinned) and said "That's okay, My. I understand."

Mycroft picked up the phone.

"Yes?... Absolutely no... Are you threatening me? Oh, you don't mean it... Still, I have to reject your proposal... I can't go and repair your failure... 20 minutes maximum. I won't give you more." He hung up and gave Greg an apologetic look.

"Myc, like I said: it's no problem, we can postpone our date-"

"No! Please, stay. I will be back soon. Before the end of a movie, I promise." Begged Mycroft.

"Okay. Go. And 007, be careful." Mycroft rolled his eyes.

"How many times do I have to say it? I am not James Bond."

"Of course..." Greg passionately kissed him and (although he didn't want to) let him go. After one hour without Mycroft, Greg dozed off.

 

-II-

 

Greg looked at his flashy clothes. Mr Holmes gave him his credit card to buy something classy. He said that he can keep everything and what’s more, will pay him at the end of the week. Strange guy. Paying a prostitute for just accompanying him. With his mind full of thoughts, Greg entered a famous tailor's shop.

A shop assistant immediately noticed him. He turned to his colleague.

"Miss Wilson, do you know that lady?" His colleague frowned.

"No, sir." She said and went straight to Greg.

"May I help you?"

"I'm just checkin' things out," Greg answered and looked around.

"Are you looking for something in particular?" She insisted.

"No. Well, yeah. Something... conservative. You’ve got nice stuff." One suit in particular pinched his interest.

"Thank you."

"How much is this?" Greg asked while he stared at a blue bespoken suit.

"I don't think this would fit you." She said arrogantly.

"Well, I didn't ask if it would fit. I asked how much it was." But the shop assistant only rolled her eyes to her colleague.

"How much is this, Marie?"

"It's very expensive."

"It's very expensive," Marie repeated in very stuck-up tone.

"Look, I’ve got money to spend in here." Greg tried to defend himself unsuccessfully.

"I don't think we have anything for you."

"You're obviously in the wrong place."

"Please leave." 

So Greg left. He nearly cried. This wasn't fair. He felt worse than when he was alone on the street with junkies. Later he came to that shop again. But now he wore a grey bespoken suit. From the moment when he entered the shop, assistants were trying to flatter him and get his attention.

"May I help you?" Asked Marie.

"No, thank you. Hi."Answered Greg self-confidently. 

"Hello." She said surprised.

"Do you remember me?" Asked Greg.

"No, I'm sorry."

"I was in here yesterday. You wouldn't wait on me." Explained Greg calmly.

"Oh." The assistant remembered.

"You work on commission, right?" Continued Greg.

"Uh, yes."

"Big mistake. Big. Huge! I have to go shopping now." Greg said with pure pleasure and showed them his shopping bags.

"Yeah, that's right, you have to buy me a beer from your sugar daddy’s money." Added voice behind him.

"What the hell, John, are you doing in my dream?" Shouted Greg.

"What's your problem Lestrade? Everybody is here." Murmured Sherlock.

"NO! Sherlock get out of my dream! Every time I see you there it's a bad omen."

"Pfff, how dull. I didn't know you are so stupidly superstitious."

"Well I am and I don't want to see you here anymore."

"As you wish." Said Sherlock. Greg's dream started to lose its shape. Before he realized, he was awake. He jerked. His hand caught somebody.

"-Sherlock!" Greg shouted from sleep, but then he recognized the face of older Holmes, who frowned.

"Saying name of my little brother in your sleep; hmm, Gregory, tell me… should I be afraid?" Greg hugged him.

"No, My, never. I just had a nightmare."

"What about?"

"I was Julia Roberts."

"That doesn't sound so bad." Mycroft grinned.

"Hey! Stop laughing. It's not funny. I thought about it and our lives are similar – I mean with the character, not the actress."

"I don't wish to offend you, my Love, however, you are neither pretty nor a woman. If you ask me, I would say, you are manly and sexy."

"Yeah, but you’re wealthy. You often buy me stuff-"

"Stop with this nonsense. You aren't a prostitute; I am not paying you for sex."

"Well, she also didn't take his money."

"So should I start paying you? Is that what you want?"

"No! Of course not."

"Why not? I have no problem with it. At least I would get some." Muttered Mycroft in frustration.

"What did you say?!" Shouted Greg and Mycroft paled.

"... Something silly, that I didn't mean in slightest?" Improvised Mycroft poorly. Greg pinned him against the wall.

"Exactly. But that's not the point. You teased me all day, and then you just decide to go away like nothing happened. I think you are in need for some punishment. Hard one for making me wait so long." Mycroft panted. This was what he wanted, but now he didn’t feel prepared.

"I am sorry. However you said that you don’t mind!" Mycroft panicked. Greg stopped himself in motion.

"I don’t… My, I thought – it was you, who talked about power dynamics and things like it. You don’t want it anymore? Say it and will stop." Mycroft blushed.

"No! I want it, but-"

"But?"

"...Not in this suit."

"WHAT?!"

"It’s my favourite one. I am afraid of stains."

"No problem, I will get you out of it." 

"Gregory, you know I love you, however I would rather take off my this suit myself. You always crumple your clothes." Greg sighed.

"You were already wearing another suit before, why did you change it for two hours?"

"Love, I was meeting the PM, I couldn’t go in casual clothes." Mycroft's ‘casual clothes’ were more formal than any piece of clothing Greg owned, but Greg didn’t want to argue.

"My, I give you ten minutes, then I want to see you naked in your bed."

"Yes. That sounds marvellous." To Mycroft's surprise, Greg didn‘t loosen his grip on him.

"Aren’t you forgetting something?" Asked Greg in a commanding tone.

"I don‘t think – uh,  _oh_ . Yes,  **sir** ."

"Much better." Greg purred into his ear and released him.


	2. What do you mean you can’t? Try harder.

Mycroft was lying on his bed, feeling excited and little naughty. Greg entered the room without knocking.

"Should we begin?” Asked Greg as he hungrily watched Mycroft's body in black sheets. Mycroft smiled. He (unfortunately) had time to google Jolanda’s website again. She recommended very specific roleplay, so he said:

"Oh, I am so sorry, mister police officer. I didn’t want break into your house, I swear, I will never do it again." Greg giggled unprofessionally, but then he immediately slipped into his role (well, kind of).

"And if that’s the reason, why are you naked in my bed?" Greg teased. Mycroft thought for while. Jolanda warned every beginner from falling of their role. But when he thought about it, his position really didn’t make much sense.

"...I was afraid of your rage when you found me. If you call the police, I would go to jail. Please, sir, I believe we can come to an agreement."

“What an insolent thief. You think that you can decide your punishment yourself?” Growled Greg. Mycroft found it very arousing.

“I am sorry, I will be a good boy.”

“No. Don’t lie to me. I know a criminal like you can never change.”

“Well maybe you should handcuff me or I will run away.” Greg’s eye widened. His stiffed politician took it pretty seriously. It was a bloody shame that he had to disappoint him.

“Sorry, I am not a deviant. I don’t normally carry handcuffs. At least, not when I’m not wearing my work clothes.” He could see the broken fantasy in Mycroft's eyes.

“But I will surely find something else to keep you in place,” Greg said quickly and Mycroft's boyish grin returned. Now Greg couldn't fail him. He searched three drawers until he was satisfied.

“No! Gregory, you can’t! Please, no, I beg you… put it down.”

“What’s your problem? You have a dozen ties.” Greg was baffled.

“That’s not true. I have only seventy-six, and you will ruin four of them!” Complained Mycroft.

“Pudding, they are just ties. I will untie them later. They won’t be damaged.”

“Doesn’t matter. I would never wear them after this.” Greg loudly sighed.

“Ok Myc, what about a compromise? Two ties.”

“Very well, but I am not pleased.”

“I guarantee that you will be.” Replied Greg. He bound Mycroft's hands to the bed so Mycroft had his arms spread and was lying on his back.

“Love?”

“What now, you filthy thief?”

“Sir. It’s not tight enough. I can untie myself.” Complained Mycroft.

“I didn’t want it to be painful.”

“It’s not professional to do such a lazy job on your suspect.” Greg began to lose his temper.

“Ok. You want it hard? You got it.” He snapped and tighten Mycroft's bounds. Mycroft cried out.

“Better?” Asked Greg.

“Yes, sir.” Greg’s pulse quickened. Without thinking, he attacked Mycroft mouth. They kissed passionately, fighting for dominance. When Mycroft thought he couldn’t get more aroused, Greg pulled away. Mycroft desperately tried to reach him, but his bounds stopped him. Greg chuckled as Mycroft whined in frustration. He moved lower, out of Mycroft's reach. With experience, he began to cover his body in wet kisses. Mycroft moaned.

“How is it, my sweet pudding? Being completely at someone's mercy?”

“I have no idea.” Replied Mycroft with a smirk. Then he curled his legs around Greg's waist and pulled him on himself. Greg grinned.

“For a thief, you are unbelievably bossy. Next time I will tie your legs too.”

“Mmm, next time. I like the prospect, although why do you think, Mr police officer, I will break into your house again?” Asked Mycroft innocently and bit Greg’s ear.

“Police intuition.” Answered Greg with another kiss on his chest.

“But what if-” Greg was getting tired of the play. He liked it, but he didn’t want to talk anymore, he wanted to fuck him into the mattress. And even through Mycroft was a genius, he clearly didn’t understand Greg’s primal objective.

“You talk too much. I know a better use for your lovely mouth.”

“What do you mean? Ahhh.” Finally understood Mycroft.

“That’s right. Say ‘ahh’ and open wide.” Commanded Greg. Mycroft happily obeyed. Greg opened his fly and showed his cock into Mycroft's hot mouth. The politician did his best to satisfy his lover, but with tied hands, he wasn’t really in control. It was a very new situation for Mycroft. So with no actual need for it, he craved for a different angle.

“G-G-Greg-” Mycroft tried to express his demand, but Greg didn’t let him. Talking time was over. When Mycroft attempted to say something, Greg pushed deeper. Soon enough Mycroft learned his lesson and Greg stopped gagging him. Although in the end it didn’t matter. Greg found a rhythm and fucked his throat. Hard. All of Mycroft’s potential words were drowned in his moans.

“Oh, My, I won’t last long. Be a good boy and swallow everything.” Commanded Greg, voice rough. Until this moment Mycroft's mind was blank, fully lost in bliss. Now Mycroft wondered. Did he want to be a good boy? Jolanda wrote that bad boys get more fun. He wanted more fun. So when he felt the taste of precum and Greg quicked his movement, Mycroft made his decision. With the last push Greg came. Hot fluid filled Mycroft's mouth. Normally, he would immediately swallow everything. Today Mycroft felt bold. Without breaking eye contact he spat it out on the floor. Greg’s eyebrow rose in surprise. His first thought was that he unintentionally choked him, therefore he asked him with concern:

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, I am. I only didn’t want to swallow.” Replied Mycroft. Greg stared at him in disbelief.

“Why? You always swallow.”

“How can you know, what I always do? We have never met.” Answered Mycroft. Greg frowned. _Oh, not this bullshit again… I’ll make you regret it._

“I see… you want to be punished.”

“Yes. I didn’t obey you. I deserve it.”

“My, are you sure about it? I think you wouldn’t like it.”

“I will. I trust you. You can do anything.” Said Mycroft sincerely. Greg was deeply touched. He nearly changed his mind about Mycroft's punishment.

“Anything?” Greg asked again.

“Anything.” Mycroft said and expected… well something. Instead, Greg zipped up his jeans and rolled out of the bed.

“Gre-Mr policeman where are you going?”

“Downstairs. This is my house, I will have a coffee.” Mycroft opened his eyes wide.

“W-What?! You can’t leave! I am still hard.” Whined Mycroft, but Greg only smirked.

“I can’t what?! Did you forget, that you are just an insolent thief? You can’t order me around.”

“Nonononono! You can’t go! I am Mycroft Holmes you can’t fuck with me like this!”

“Well, that’s the point. I am not going to fuck you. At least not now. What’s your problem My? You said I can punish you anyhow.”

“I didn’t know you will choose something so cruel! Please get me off.” Begged Mycroft.

“Nope. Your punishment is denial. I forbid you to touch yourself till I come back.”

“Very funny, Gregory. You know I can’t untie myself.”

“Not my problem. It was you who wanted it tighter.” Grinned Greg as Mycroft growled.

“...Why are you doing this? You don’t love me anymore?” Greg stroked Mycroft’s chest affectionately.

“My, I love you. But you were again reading something silly on the internet, and now you try too hard. It’s not really you.” Mycroft frowned, this was the last time he read Jolanda's blog.

“It's your fault. You told me to google nasty stuff.”

“I only said that it’s unbelievable you never saw porn before.”

“There was no need for it. I had other sources.”

“You mean that book from the 18th century?”

“… It was quite explicit. You wouldn’t say a word if you saw the illustrations.”

“My, I saw them. It’s bloody abstract art!”

“Stop. What are you doing now?!”

“I am taking away everything, which you could use to cover yourself. You know, as part of the punishment.” Said Greg, as he took the sheets.

“That’s not fair! I will be good. Please…”

“Yes, I know you will. Don’t worry, My. When I come back you will get a reward.”

 

-II-

 

While Greg was drinking his coffee, he read a newspaper (even the boring part about the economy). Then he checked the time.

“Ouch. 20 minutes. Poor Myc.” He said and licked his mouth. As he was approaching the room with Mycroft, he could hear his sobs (Mycroft’s mansion had thick walls, so it was impossible to hear sounds from downstairs). _Oh, shit_. Greg thought and ran to Mycroft. He found him in a complete mess. Sweat flowed down on his neck. His wrists were red as he tried to get out from the binds. Eye filled with tears. Voice broken from crying.

“I am so sorry, My. I will make you feel good now.” Greg promised.

“No. Stop. Don’t touch me.” Mycroft begged. Greg froze, his eyes were burning.

“I know I overdid it. I am sorry, My. So sorry. Please, give me another chance. I will never do something like this to you again.”

“No, you don’t understand…” Greg cupped Mycroft's face.

“No, My. I think I do.”

“No, you don’t. I need-”

“You need?” Asked Greg carefully and gently kissed his neck.

“I need to pee.” Whispered Mycroft, face red from embarrassment.

“Oh.” Greg blinked.

“Yes.”

“We haven’t got time to properly talk about it, but I am not a fan of watersports.”

“Me neither, Gregory. Untie. Me.” Commanded Mycroft. Greg quickly obeyed, but although he did his best, he couldn't untangle the knot.

“I am sorry. I can’t!”

“What do you mean you can’t? Try harder.”

“If you didn’t provocate me, this wouldn’t have happened.”

“…Gregory, I haven’t wet my bed since I was two years old. There is no way I will stay with a partner who witnessed such humiliation.” Greg gulped. Mycroft was serious.

“Love, what if I leave, so I wouldn’t see you when you-”

“And let my subordinates find me? Have you lost your mind?! Solve it or this is the end.” Greg started to panic. He ran out of the room before Mycroft could explain to him that he had some scissors in a drawer next to the door.

 

-II-

 

Greg had no idea where Mycroft could have scissors. He had no time to find it out, and so Greg decided he would use a knife. _Everybody has a knife in the kitchen, right? Yes! At least something Mycroft had in common with the rest of world_. Greg thought as he came into the kitchen. When he chose an especially sharp one, he heard a strange noise. Somebody was coming. Greg grasped the knife, ready to defend himself. But in the moment he saw the intruder, he knew he was in deep shit and no knife could help him.

“What the hell are you doing here, Sherlock?!” Sherlock froze. Clearly, he also didn’t expect anybody here.

“I am here to steal a secret document.”

“What!”

“Uh, and replace Mycroft’s classical music playlist with Shakira. But what are **you** doing here? My brother should be still occupied with the PM.” _He probably would, if he wasn’t so horny._

“Tell me Lestrade, why are you in my brother’s kitchen, wearing only boxers? And why do you have a knife?” Greg started sweating.

“Eeeeh… Yes, I am waiting for Mycroft to come back. I want to surprise him.”

“With a knife?” Sherlock rose his left eyebrow.

“Eh. I am making a brunch for him. I need it for cutting eh… bananas.”

“A brunch? At 10 pm?” Sherlock arched his dominant eyebrow.

“It’s an early brunch. We won’t see each other tomorrow.”

“Hmm, why don’t you cut it in the kitchen?”

“Because I have all ingredients upstairs. Oh, please Sherlock, this is getting ridiculous. Just forget that you saw me and continue in your _activities_.”

They both shared one long look. The first who moved was Sherlock; he ran to the stairs quick like a bunny. Greg was right behind him.

“Sherlock, stop! If My sees you, he will break up with me! He is naked on the bed and I can’t untie his bonds. That’s why I need the knife! Please, stop! ”

“Pff. Or you want to carve his heart out? One never knows Lestrade!”

Meanwhile, Mycroft heard steady footsteps coming from the corridor. _Is Gregory messing with me? Why is he so slow? Wait. That pace. It isn’t Gregory._

 

 

-II-

 

If John Watson had looked into the room, before he entered it, he would probably would never have done it. Now it was too late. Mycroft watched him cautiously. _Still better than Sherlock._

“Look down.” Mycroft’s command kicked something deep in John from his years in the military and well, he would do it anyway.

“Yes, sir.” Answered Greg instinctively.

“I need your help, John. Gregory tied me and left me a long time ago. I have no doubt my idiotic little brother is accompanying you, and he can’t see me. Not like this.”

“Okay, I will try to untie you.” Said John and made two steps toward Mycroft.

“No. The knot is impossible. Take off your jumper.”

“What?!”

“Sherlock could arrive at any moment. First I need to cover my nudity.” Explained Mycroft calmly.

“Fuck, this is your bedroom. There should be plenty of clothes.”

“Stop wasting my time and take off your jumper. All that you could find are socks, ties or cufflinks. My clothes are in a wardrobe with a photoelectric sensor. Without my iris you can’t fool it. I can see a question in your eyes. The answer is obviously Sherlock. My suits cost me a fortune. They are not subjects for experiments!” Said Mycroft in tone like he was talking about his own children.

“Nope. You like your suits, I like my jumper. I won’t sacrifice it.” Replied John stubbornly.

“You can’t like that thing. It’s hideous.” Grumbled Mycroft.

“Well, I can. If you don’t agree to my terms, I won’t help you.”

“As you wish. Then take off your trousers.”

“WHAT?! What will Sherlock think when he sees me?” There was no ‘if’ in his sentence.

“Pff, we are talking about my brother. He won’t care about seeing you without trousers. No, on the contrary, he will be quite pleased. But the last time he saw me naked, he had ‘trauma’ for several months. Believe me, you don’t want to live with him when he feels traumatised.” John could imagine it. He quickly took off his trousers.

“The size doesn’t match.” John said awkwardly.

“Of course it doesn’t. Put them over me. Hurry up. I hear them coming.”

“ _Them?!_ ”


	3. This isn’t what it looks like.

Greg managed to outrun Sherlock. The genius gave him an advantage, because he wasn’t sure which bedroom Mycroft was in. Now he regretted it. He should have instantly deduced that it was the main bedroom. But it already happened. And that the reason why the first thing John saw wasn’t head of arrogant detective, but a hand holding a very sharp knife. John dropped his trousers on the floor. Mycroft had no time. Desperate times call for desperate measures.

He curled his long legs around John’s waist and pulled him on himself. The poor doctor squirmed in shock, but Mycroft held him firmly to (at least partly) cover his nudity with John’s body. Greg didn’t move, and so Sherlock caught up with him. Then they both mutely stared at half naked John Watson on the top of very naked and tied up Mycroft Holmes. John could feel his ears burning from embarrassment.

“This isn’t what it looks like.” John yelped.

“Sure, mate.” Replied Greg and came closer to the bed. John’s eyes were tracking the knife in Greg’s hand.

“Somebody please burn my eyes!” Whimpered Sherlock. However, everybody ignored him.

“Greg, stop! I am not…! He…! Mycroft say something!” The knife was getting closer, but Mycroft kept silent. John closed his eyes. Suddenly he realised that if he was going to die lying half naked on a Holmes, he was on the very wrong Holmes.

“Sherlock, I love you.” Sherlock’s protests stopped as he froze on the spot. The knife swished only a few inches over John’s head. Greg cut Mycroft’s tie in half. Then he did the same on the other side. Mycroft immediately pushed John out of the bed and ran to a bathroom. John fell on the ground right in front of Sherlock’s feet. They both stared at each other.

“Are you serious?” Sherlock asked him cautiously.

“No! Yes! Maybe. It’s complicated.” Sherlock gave him a sharp glance.

“Okay. It’s not. But it took me a long time to acknowledge it and then- I just didn’t think I would confess to you half naked on your brother. I am sorry.”

Sherlock’s eyes filled with love… until Mycroft came back. He was wearing a deep red dressing gown. Sherlock grasped him and pushed him against the wall.

“You bastard! Why do you have to always fuck the people I love?!” Sherlock nearly cried.

“What are talking about?”

“Let’s start from the beginning. Mr Petergrass.”

“Who? Oh, our gardener?”

“And my house tutor.” Mycroft rolled his eyes.

“Geoffrey gave you some lesson because you were insufferable, but I wouldn’t call it tutoring.”

“Doesn’t matter. He was my first crush.” Mycroft was honestly surprised.

“Sherlock, you were 12 and he was 25!”

“I was broken when I saw you.”

“Ah, that makes sense. All these years I thought it was because you saw me naked.”

“Then it was Lestrade and now it’s John!”

“Wait!” Everyone interrupted.

“You had a crush on me?” Greg asked him in disbelief. Mycroft’s eyes glowed with jealousy.

“Only platonic.”

“But you wanted more.” Mycroft deduced angrily.

“At first yes. However Lestrade was loyal to his wife and ignored every my attempt.”

“What?! I thought you were high! Stop looking at me like that My, I would never do anything anyway.”

“Yes, he wouldn’t. I also realised it and after a year or two I lost interest. But still, you just had to fuck them all!” Mycroft sighed. He was glad his brother no longer lusted after Greg.

“My dear brother, you see, but you do not observe. Even my partner understand it.” Sherlock cooled down and finally though. Then he released his grip on Mycroft.

“Oh, you had nothing with him. You just used him like a blanket.”

“Exactly.”

“Disgusting. John, why didn’t you lend him your jumper?”

“It’s my favourite one!”

“Well, it’s touched my brother’s penis anyway. We have to burn it.”

“What?! Hmh, you are right, I can’t wear it, I would always recall today.”

“Hey, what your problem. I touch your brother's penis regularly.”

“Yes, and I will never shake hands with you again. John, come. We are leaving.”

“Wait a second. I need to put on my trousers!” Sherlock arched his eyebrow.

“No, I don't think so. Mycroft, I will borrow your BMW. You owe me it for Mr Petergrass.”

“Yes. Enjoy it.” Said Mycroft, although Sherlock didn’t pay any attention to him. He was already dragging John out of the room. Greg moved towards Mycroft, who meanwhile sat down in his armchair.

“That was a little awkward.”

“Indeed.” Replied Mycroft tiredly.

“I suppose...”

“No, I truly don’t intend to continue in our previous activities.” Mycroft finished Greg’s sentence. Greg sighed.

“Should I leave?” Asked Greg. He knew Mycroft preferred to be alone when he felt ashamed.

“Yes, I believe it would be better.” Answered Mycroft dispassionately. Still Greg couldn't resist to tease him before he left, so he leaned over and whispered his question into Mycroft's ear. Greg’s hot breath tickled him.

“Tell me, how long were you hard and desperate for me?”

“’Til I realised my little brother was here.”

“Of course. Bloody Sherlock, killer of erection.” Mycroft giggled. Greg smiled, then he turned to leave. Mycroft caught his hand.

“Gregory?”

“Yes, My?” Greg watched his partner. He stood up, took Greg’s hand and led him to his closet. Mycroft opened a drawer full of ties. They weren’t his ordinary ties. They all looked horrible. Some of them had Christmas or very cheesey (two even literally) patterns.

“Next time, these are gifts from my loving mother.” Said Mycroft innocently. Greg grinned and french-kissed Mycroft. He couldn't wait for the next time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it was just a small drabble, but I hope you enjoyed it. Next time I will write something longer with more feelings.


End file.
